Lavender is the New BLack
by Bakanori
Summary: Harry has never been normal. Normal kids go outside. Normal kids are use to being in the light. But Harry is far from normal. Harry hasn't seen a ray of light since he was three years old. What will happen when a stranger releases him from his dark prison? Read to find out. (WARNINGS: This is a dark AU which will get darker as it continues.) (Inspiration: the Lavender Town Theme)


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. The only thing I own is this take on Harry Potter's story.

***Looking for a beta.***

WARNINGS:

This story is going to be a dark AU, if you don't like the sound of that, then don't read this story. The following will also be in this story; abuse, animal mutilation, manipulation, and death

CHAPTER 1: The Beginning

Time was meaningless. Nothing could lighten the constant state of his blackened hell hole. Not even the morning sun could lighten up the crack of the cupboard door that kept him imprisoned. His meals were slipped through the bottom flap once a day, in the dark of night; ensuring that darkness was the only thing he knew.

When he was let out at of his room to use the bathroom, Harry Potter wore a black bag over his head while being escorted to the bathroom, where he would have to use the facilities unaided in the darkness of the bag. He had quickly learned to accomplish this in a hurried manner, least he run out of air; to be woken abruptly by Vernon Dursley kicking him down that stairs. The black bag removed right as one of the Dursleys shoved him back into the darkness of his cupboard.

Tears and sadness were foreign concepts to Harry, as were most other emotions. Harry's existence was a miserable one, not that he knew it. He didn't know much of anything. Words and complex thoughts held no meaning to Harry, who had been locked up alone in the cupboard since his third birthday, 8 years ago.

Harry had been woken by his Aunt Petunia rapping on his door. Harry hurried to get up, hoping that he would receive praise for his good behavior. However his hope of praise were dashed when Petunia sneered at him and walked away into the kitchen. Following his aunt, Harry had frozen in shock as he saw piles of gifts strown out on the table wrapped in many different colors of wrapping paper. Were those for him?

"Boy!" Petunia barked, drawing his attention. "Get in here before Dudley runs you over! You are going to help me with the dishes.

Nodding hurriedly Harry rushed to his aunt's side, as the sound of a baby elephant was heard heading toward the kitchen door. Looking up at his aunt, Harry scrunched up his face in confusion as she started telling him how to do the dishes. There were a lot of things he would need to do in order to help her. Unsure of something she had said, Harry had opened his mouth to ask her to explain a step again, when the air was knocked out of him by his cousin shoving him into the stove.

Picking himself up Harry had made to shove Dudley back, only to be greeted hard with his uncle's boot as it impacted his face. "LEAVE HIM ALONE BOY, or else I'll tear you a new hide." Uncle Vernon spat, seizing him by his neck and dragging him off the floor where he had fallen.

"Breakfast is ready." Petunia called, diffusing the situation.

Harry hurried to help his aunt set the table once Uncle Vernon released him. Trying his best to be quiet, Harry sat at a clear part of the table relearning how to breath, That had been close.

After breakfast the Dursleys loitered in the kitchen. Uncle Vernon eyeing his nephew curiously as he squirmed under his gaze. Hours seemed to pass in this manner to Harry before the silent staring contest was broken by Uncle Vernon smiling cruelly. "Do you want to open your presents, Harry?"

"My presents, sir?" Harry gasped, hardly believing his luck. He was actually being given presents like Dudley! Grinning broadly, Harry reached for the present nearest him. "Thank you, sir!" He exclaimed happily unwrapping the present.

The inside the wrapping paper was drenched in red. A piece of indistinguishable meat lay inside it. Feeling sick, Harry looked around at the Dursleys mumbling a thank you before moving onto the next parcel. Each present got redder and stickier. Opening the last present, Harry screamed at the decapitated head that lay in there, still dripping new blood. "What!" Harry cried in disgusted anguish as he looked down at the head of one of Mrs. Figgs cats, as it stared vacantly at him.

Aunt Petunia smiled, picking up the meat bits and putting them into one of her best cooking pots. Smiling at Harry, she grabbed the head of the dead cat, throwing it into the rubbish bin. "I hope you are still hungry, Harry. I am going to make you a birthday special."

Nauseated Harry made to bolt from the room, barely able to move before pain exploded through his body as a frying pan was slammed against his head. Pain and darkness claimed him. Snippets of memories were all that remain after that. Memories of a bloody red stew being forced into his mouth, and the tough taste and texture of cat.

. . . . . . . .

Harry awoke to the sound of a loud banging coming from somewhere in the house. Sitting up, Harry moved to his cupboard door to be able to hear clearly. The sound of hurried footsteps passed by his door as the knocking continued. Aunt Petunia's sickly sweet voice was soon heard as she opened up the front door, plastering a neighborly smile onto her face. "Good morning."She greeted her visitor automatically, before taking in their appearance. "You!" she cried, making to shut the door.

"Yes, me." The man standing on her doormat sneered, eyeing her with a look of distaste, as he grabbed hold of the door pushing it open. "I am here to collect Harry, Petunia."

"You can't have him." Retorted Petunia.

"Move out of my way, Petunia, before you meet the same sticky end as your sister."

Petunia stepped back against the door of her home, pressing it against the hallway wall. "Yes, my lord." She replied weakly, eyeing the floor. "Please come in."

Light red eyes sparked as their owner eyed the weak muggle woman before him. "Of course." he purred, shutting the door behind him with a callus smirk. "Where is Harry?"

"Over here, my lord." Petunia responded quietly, leading him to the cupboard, happy her family wasn't home.

"You've kept him in a cupboard?" Her Lord questioned with a hint of disbelief leaking into his voice. Ignoring the muggle, he Lord raised his wand and magically open the cupboard. The sight of a pathetic form met his eyes, A pathetic form curled up in a tight fetal position lay on the lone twin bed squeezed in the small length of the cupboard, The boy in the bed hissed in pain at the light that invaded his cupboard, piercing his eyes like hot knives in butter. "You've done a pathetic job of looking after him." He stated coldly, raising his wand at the child's aunt. "Crucio."


End file.
